


(in)humanly possible

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2012-11-17
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:36:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years in the future and Stiles has a job at the museum, Scott and Allison are finally getting married, Derek is smiling more than he used to and Jackson may or may not be a fucking beautiful flower girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(in)humanly possible

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf (or, as I like to think of it, Team Wolf) has taken over my brain. I feel slightly alarmed.

Stiles rubbed his arms to try and bring some warmth back in his limbs.  He looked at his watch—ten minutes past the hour, which meant he could tease Derek later about being late.

Snow was falling all around him, and not the nice, fluffy type, but the kind that scares you a little bit as it careens toward your head.  He looked upward and smirked when a piece of snow bounced off the tip of his nose.  He still wasn't completely used to New York weather.

“Tea,” Derek announced behind him, and thrust a steaming Starbucks cup into Stiles’s cold, surprised hands.

“What kind?” he asked immediately as the warmth soaked through his mittens.

“Cinnamon.  Sorry I’m late.”  Derek sipped at his own cup, and Stiles noted with a not-so-small degree of pride that he was wearing the fingerless gloves Stiles had gotten him last Christmas.  “The line was long.  Lots of idiots without heavy jackets freezing their butts off out here.”

Derek offered Stiles a brief smile Stiles returned with gusto.

“No problem.  But, speaking of frozen butts, I would be happy to get out of here as fast as is inhumanly possible.”  Stiles grinned and threaded his arm through Derek’s. 

“Isn’t the phrase usually _humanly_ possible?”

“Well, you’re not exactly a human, now are you?”

“Point.”

They ambled toward the jeep, slowly despite the cold, and Stiles wondered, not for the first time, how much different he’d gotten with the addition of Derek into his admittedly kind of pathetic life.  Scott was a good friend, but good friends aren’t the same as a good _boyfriend_ , and despite popular opinion, Stiles didn’t like Scott like that.  (Ew _._ )

Stiles assumed he was happier, now that he had Derek.  It wasn’t as if his issues had disappeared—or even eased—but he felt more distracted, when he was with him, more like maybe the pain actually meant something.  Like some sort of disfunctional privalege—if you can feel loss that deeply, it's gotta say something about how much you have the capacity to love.  Sort of a backhanded compliment, but it made him feel a little less lost.

“What d’you think, movie, hot soup, couch snuggles?” Stiles asked after Derek opened the passenger door for him.

“I could go for that.”  Derek started the car, and man, he was _way_ too smug that he was driving.  “How was work?”

“Stupid.  My manager was a dick and basically decided today was boss-Stiles-around-and-call-him-by-his-given-name day.”  Stiles crossed his arms over his chest in a huff.  “I’m seriously considering legally changing my name to Stiles.”

Derek’s lips twitched.  “I’m surprised he could pronounce it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Stiles grumbled.  “Your name is so _normal._   My birth certificate looks like the alphabet threw up on it.”

This startled an honest to God laugh out of Derek, which?  Was the best.

“You say he bossed you around?”  Derek asked.

“Yes!  It was awful!”

“And by ‘bossed around’ do you mean he made you do research?  What a hardship.”

“Yes!  …No!  I don’t know,” Stiles sighed, defeated, and slumped farther into his seat.  “He was a dick.”

“So you keep saying.”  Derek’s smirk had grown into a goddamn _grin._   “What do you mean?”

“I mean he displayed dickish behavior!  And then my intern started laughing at me.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me.” 

Stiles humphed—though he had to concede agreement—and flipped on the radio.  The song was loud and offended Derek’s warrior spirit, but Stiles started to sing along and the picture was so funny that Derek couldn’t hold on to his scowl for very long.

“Can’t we listen to something decent?”  Derek grumbled.

“Oh, stop it, you sourwolf.  This music is fan _tastic_.”

“I don’t need any more angsty bullshit.  I have McCall for that.”

Stiles laughed.  “You got me there," he conceded, because yeah, Scott was the epitome of angsty bullshit. He nudged Derek with his elbow.  “Not like we didn’t have our share, though, back in the beginning,” he added just to see Derek’s exasperated eye-roll.

“Yes, but we were intelligent about it.  And your dad wasn’t out to kill me.”

“He would’ve happily put you behind bars, though. Again.”

Derek gave Stiles a long, sideways glance, smirking.  “Touché.”

Stiles mocked a bow in his seat.

"I still think Jackson would make a beautiful flower girl," he remarked out of nowhere, recalling an earlier conversation from the morning that had almost ended him up with some Stiles Jelly for a head.

Derek's forehead  _thunk_ ed against the steering wheel.  "Don't start _that_ again," he groaned.

"Think about it!  The dress, the lace, the rose petals... don't try to tell me that wouldn't be hilarious, because it fucking would."

Derek raised an eyebrow.  "Do I want to know where your ideas about Jackson and lace come from?"

"Probably not," Stiles admitted, grinning sheepishly, and Derek wrinkled his nose.  

"At least the wedding seems to be on a fixed date," Derek mused.  "It'll be good for them to finalize things."

Stiles nodded in agreement.  "D'you think they'll stop being awkward lovesick teenagers after they're officially bound 'til death and all that?" he wondered aloud.  Derek gave him a look. 

"Really?"

"Yeah.  Stupid question."

Derek was silent for a long moment, almost long enough for Stiles to wonder if he'd said something wrong.

"Do you ever wonder what it'd be like to be married?"  Derek asked at last.

"Sure, all the time.  But I thought you said you didn't want to know where my lacey ideas came from," Stiles quipped without an ounce of regret, especially when the serious expression on Derek's face was obliterated with a snort of laughter.

"Ew," Derek replied succinctly.  

Stiles smirked into his mitten.

"Sorry.  You were being serious.  Go ahead."

Derek shrugged.  "It wasn't particularly important."  But the too-casual way he was holding himself said otherwise.

"C'mon, spill.  I don't care how unimportant you think it was."  Stiles punched him lightly on the shoulder.  "You know I'm a stubborn ass about this kind of thing."

Derek's brow furrowed.  "I don't know how to say it," he confessed.  "I think I'm going about it all wrong."

"Well," Stiles started, and wet his lips, "You could always try.  Y'know, 'if at first you don't succeed, try, try'—"

"I want to marry you," Derek blurted out.

Stiles was startled into silence.  His mouth resembled a codfish.

"It's legal in this state.  I didn't think you'd be opposed to the idea—"

"Wait a second!" Stiles inturrupted.  "Who said I was opposed to the idea?"

"I don't know!  You didn't say anything," Derek growled, frustrated, and his eyes had reached a concerning level of intensity.

"Derek?"  He placed his hand on Derek's shoulder.  "I have an idea."

"What?" Derek snapped.

"Let's get married," Stiles suggested and felt the tensed muscles in Derek's shoulder relax, the car slowing to a stop in front of their apartment.

"Yes," Derek said, just  _yes_ , and Stiles grinned the biggest goddamn grin the world had ever seen.


End file.
